


Remember Your Place

by Kitsu



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: At Least Compared To What I Normally Write, Desk Sex, M/M, Nothing but smut, Punishment, Reno's Been a Bad Boy, Role Reversal, Shameless Smut, Smut, Tseng Being A Dirty Fucker, he deserved it, of the best kind
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2019-11-11
Packaged: 2021-01-27 08:21:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21389047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kitsu/pseuds/Kitsu
Summary: Reno's been a bad boy, and needs punishing. Maybe, perhaps, not exactly what is expected in terms of punishment, though.
Relationships: Reno/Tseng
Comments: 2
Kudos: 44





	Remember Your Place

**Author's Note:**

> This was written to make up to Reno for what I put him through in my previous fic. As apologies goes, I think it's a pretty good one, even though Tseng tortures him just a little bit.
> 
> Also, completely and utterly inspired by the Turks' all too brief appearances in the Remake trailers. Can we just take a moment to talk about <s>the gospel of Jenova, I mean</s> Reno's redesigned uniform (Those buckles! That chest!), Tseng's EARRING, his hair, his fucking beautiful expression? I can't wait to see more of it.

Everyone in the universe sailed through life as beings of matter, defined by space and time. Whatever coincidence had resulted in Reno joining the Department of Administrative Research, Tseng didn't know whether to curse it or count as a blessing. Though Reno was more than a handful, he still performed his work with conviction. Whatever he was ordered to do, somehow - mostly - came to pass. 

Well, with a few notable exceptions, because Reno  _ did _ have a moral compass, though it didn’t exactly point due North. Sometimes it interfered with his duties, and he’d bend the rules, twist the orders he’d received, until they suited him better. Tseng had to admit, in many ways he appreciated the times it happened - because they lead to Reno standing in front of him, twitchy, fidgety, waiting for his punishment.

Sitting in his chair, Tseng continued reading through the report in front of him, ignoring Reno’s nervous energy. He was doing it on purpose, seeing how long it would take before Reno’s brows would furrow, before his bright eyes would narrow, and the curve of his mouth would turn pouty, indignant.

Those lips, Tseng shudder slightly at the thought of them. Full lips with a cruel twist to the corners. Combined with the frown he was trying to provoke, they resulted in the most intensely,  _ fucking _ hot expression on Reno’s face. Usually not one to swear, Tseng just had no better words to convey his meaning.

It took about seven minutes, longer than he had anticipated. He felt Reno’s energy shift.

“Yo, boss. How long you gon’ keep me standing here?” There was a whiny edge to Reno’s voice.

“Long as it takes,” Tseng answered, intentionally terse.

“Takes for what?” 

_ Like Reno didn’t know. _ “For you to repent.”

“Man, not gon’ happen. It was just a chopper. Nobody died.” 

Even without looking up Tseng knew Reno’s hands were in his pockets, shoulders pulled back, the image of innocent nonchalance - as usual. “You could have. Then I’d have to train someone new to fill your place, your position.”

“What position would that be?”

Tseng more heard than saw the tilt of Reno’s head, than saw it, it reflected in his voice as well as in his posture. “Behave,” he admonished. “My second should be well aware of his position. There shouldn’t be any need for me to explain it.”

A small rustling sound told him Reno was shifting his weight around, but he still didn’t look up, not until Reno’s palms spread flat on the desk in front of him and the redhead leaned in.

Sitting back in his chair, Tseng took in the sight of an aggravated Reno - feeling a smile tug at the corners of his mouth. He controlled it, killed it down to a half-smile, inscrutable. Lifting his hand, he tilted his head, toying slightly with his earring. “Did I tell you to move?” he asked calmly, syrupy, sickly sweet - before making a mental note of slipping whoever was in charge of Reno’s uniform a few extra bills for their effort. Though, technically, a tie was part of it, Reno had never worn one voluntarily, instead optioning for a half buttoned shirt and a blazer only held closed by **fucking** **buckles**. Half his chest, his smooth, pale chest, was left exposed - for Tseng to admire, and every enemy to paint a big, red bulls-eye on. Going to get him hurt one day - but that was the life of a Turk. Reno prided himself on being fast enough to dodge an incoming bullet, and for the time being he was. 

“Nah. You didn’t, and you wouldn’t, not until I did something you can scold me for. Sadist”.

Tseng felt the corners of his mouth twist up. “See? If you died, I’d have to teach that there to someone all over. I wonder how long it would have taken them to it figure out.” 

“You really are an asshole, boss,” Reno quipped. “So, what’s it gon’ be? What’s my punishment this time?”

Tseng leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk and his chin on his steepled thumbs. Locking eyes with Reno, he made a show of contemplating, considering - though he already had a certain something in mind. Not being able to keep his mask for long, though, he flashed Reno a toothy grin - some might even have called it “shit-eating” if they had been talking about  _ anyone but Tseng _ . He grabbed hold of Reno’s shirt lapels, pulled him in, mouth devouring.

Hands still tangled in fabric, Tseng rose to his feet, placed his hip on the edge of the desk, and in one smooth motion swung his legs across it, maneuvering himself around until he was sitting on the opposite side of the desk, Reno’s thighs between his legs. The kiss never broke, both hungrily delving into it. 

Reno’s hands came to rest on Teng’s thighs, moving slowly upward, warm through the fabric. They stopped on Tseng’s hips, thumbs pushing into the dips between hip bones and groin, drawing slow circles. Tseng arched into the touch - then chuckled to himself. He knew what the world thought of Shinra, of the Turks and the relationships between them.  _ How wrong they were.  _

Always playing at being the stoic one, people regarded Tseng as calm, collected at all times, in all situations. Always in charge. Immaculate.  _ How wrong they were. _

Reno flaunted an easy presence and easier morals. Everyone through him the errant Turk, the dog needed to be kept on a short leash, chaotic. _ How wrong they were. _

Tseng never craved power, never wanted to be King - his title and his little kingdom having been handed to him when no-one else was there to claim it. He played his role perfectly though, but behind closed doors… Behind closed doors was a completely different matter. 

He mewled into the kiss, urging Reno on. The hands on his hips moved again, to cup his  erection through black fabric. 

Reno’s hesitancy earned him a kick to the shin. “Ouch,” he mouthed into the kiss, still not breaking it.

“Get...on...with...it,” Tseng replied, between kisses, bites and breaths. 

“Yes, boss.” Reno’s hands moved in earnest, opening buttons and zips, pulling at fabric, until Tseng’s cock was free of its confines. 

Letting go of the shirt, Tseng instead wrapped his arms around Reno’s neck, allowing the redhead to lift his weight up from the desk, just enough to slip his slacks and underwear from his hips to his thighs. Bare-assed, he was sat back down on the wooden surface. Kicking off his shoes, the offending clothing quickly followed suit. Tseng chuckled, he must’ve looked ridiculous, jacket, shirt and tie still on. He’d have to fix that -  _ after _ making away with Reno’s stupid blazer and shirt. He ran his fingers over the metal buckle holding it closed - barely, and unbuckled it, pushing the black fabric from Reno’s slender shoulders. The shirt was quickly unbuttoned to follow the jacket down into a heap on the floor. Tseng splayed his fingers, brushing tips over the expanse of pale skin before him. Indeed something to constantly show off, obvious target or no.

Reno had gotten a hold of Tseng’s tie, playing with it, before pulling at the knot, loosening it just enough to free the shirt from underneath it. The blazer came off, the shirt followed, and suddenly Tseng was naked, sitting on his own desk. 

“I really hope you remembered to lock the door behind you,” he chuckled to Reno.

“I did. And even if I hadn’t, who’d be dumb enough to enter uninvited?”

“Speaking of,” Tseng replied. “You’ve been invited. You know what to do.”

Ren did indeed know what to do, they’d danced before. Every time Tseng found a reason to “punish” him. Dropping to his knees in front of the desk, in worship, he inhaled the scent of Tseng’s arousal, feeling it resonate within himself, his cock twitching in response. Wrapping his mouth around Tseng’s cock, he licked and teased, drew wonderful, soft sounds from the mouth of his glorious leader. 

Tseng’s fingers played in the mess of red hair, pulling out the band that kept it gathered at the back. Raking nails against sensitive skin earned him a deep hum from Reno, reverberating all the way up his spine. Fumbling with the drawer behind himself, he fished out its one inhabitant - a tube of lubricant - and handed it to Reno.

Reno managed to flip it open one-handedly, but had to remove both hands from Tseng for a long, agonizing moment while pouring some into his palm. Doing quick work, his fingers soon prodded Tseng’s entrance, pushed in, pushed past, searched. Found. 

Tseng keened, caught between Reno’s hot, wet mouth and his skillful fingers. His grip on Reno’s hair tightened, pulled. He wanted more, so much more than a few fingers. “Reno,” he groaned, deep in his throat, the one word speaking measures.

“It’ll hurt, boss. Too soon.” 

So like Reno to coddle him. “Now.  _ Fucking  _ now.”

“If you insist.” Reno removed his mouth, his fingers, and Tseng  _ missed _ them. Rising to his feet, Reno unzipped his own pants, no underwear. He gave himself a few strokes with the lubed hand, all he needed, so hard already, so ready. Stepping between Tseng’s legs, he urged his boss to wrap them around his waist and to lean back on his elbows. 

Tseng hissed as Reno pushed into him, so slow,  _ too slow.  _

“Beg,” Reno whispered, hoarsely. “Beg.”

Feeling no shame, he moaned, “More,” knowing full well that Reno would always give him what he wanted. “More.”

Balls deep, waiting, holding, Reno grabbed the tie still around Tseng’s neck and wound it around his wrist a few times. Pulling, he forced Tseng to arch off the desk, perched precariously on the edge, legs still wrapped around his waist - too far from Reno to wrap his arms around him, too far off the desk to steady himself. Tseng ended up having to clasp at Reno’s forearm wrapped around his own tie. So much strength in such a lithe form. Reno was a walking lie - the perfect spy. 

After a few moments, Reno had to let Tseng back down, not able to find the purchase to thrust. Hand still wrapped in the tie, he pushed Tseng down flat, wrapping fingers around Tseng’s throat, thumb resting at notch in his throat. Slowly he started building his rhythm, steady, deep. Tseng’s legs pulled him in, guided him, and he obliged. The boss was the boss, after all. One did what the boss wanted.

Reno’s free hand traveled the expanses of Tseng’s skin, warm, calloused. Nails scraped down ribs, across his stomach, down, until settling where Tseng needed them to be, strong, rhythmical, timed to Reno’s thrusts. 

Closing his eyes, Tseng simply  _ experienced _ . Being held, being drowned in Reno - his scent just his, sweet, bloody ozon. Curtained by crimson hair falling over Reno’s shoulders, soft against skin. Tseng’s own hair a black halo fanning out across his desk. The halo of the fallen and the damned. The carnal. 

Reno’s eyes shone above him, brighter even than normal, liquid metal. His gaze dug into Tseng,  _ controlled.  _ This was the side of Reno no-one else go to see. This was his place, his position, his home - between Tseng’s welcoming legs, deep inside him, controlling Tseng’s body and his pleasure. 

Closing his eyes to the dancing stars that threatened to overcome him, Tseng arched in a silent scream, into Reno’s hand one final time, streaking his own stomach with his come, and clamping down hard. Reno groaned, gave a few short thrusts more, before collapsing across Tseng’s limp form. 

“Have I been punished enough?” he finally breathed in Tseng’s ear.

“No,” Tseng replied, rather more weakly than he wanted. “Now starts the real punishment.” He pushed at Reno, urged him to stand up. “Now you report directly to escort duty, a high security prisoner is being transported to Junon.” 

Reno looked at him in disbelief. “Now?”

“Yes, now. In fact,” Tseng looked at his wristwatch, “I think Rude might be waiting for you, car leaves in seventeen minutes.”

_ Ah, that expression again.  _ The furrowed brow, narrowed eyes and the twisted curve of Reno’s mouth really was the most delicious thing.

“You motherfucker!” Reno growled, though with less malice than the oath usually conveyed.

Tseng rose, waved his arm dismissively, and stalked around the desk to slump down in his chair. Naked, one leg draping over an armrest, Reno’s come still seeping down the inside of his thighs.

Reno wallowed hard, mouth gone dry, wondering if his boss had any idea how fucking delicious he really was. Quickly gathering the clothes he had disposed of on the floor, he dressed in a flurry, and tied his hair back up. He felt sticky and gross pulling his slacks back up and zipping them, but that was the least of his problems - he needed to leave before the sight of a naked, sweaty,  _ used  _ Tseng, shit-eating grin plastered on his face, leg dangling gently over the armrest, hands playing with that goddamned tie still tied around his neck, his soft, slightly tangled hair framing his face, and his wicked, wicked eyes burning into him turned Reno hard again. He’d rather not have to explain to Rude why he had a rather obvious hard-on when exiting Tseng’s office.  _ Awkward. _

Reno fled, Tseng’s laugher burning his ears as he slammed the door closed behind himself.

_ Tseng really was a wicked motherfucker. A fucking beautiful one, but still a fucker. _


End file.
